The Industrialist's Daughter
by TheWolfWhoWaited
Summary: When a rather good-looking, and skilled pirate shows up in Bowerstone, Reaver finds he has a rather interesting connection to this Pirate Princess.


**The Industrialist's Daughter**

The wind and salt air wiped at her face._ Bowerstone_. She thought as Bowerstone Castle and the city proper became visible through the early morning fog. _Time to meet the Bastard._

"Prepare to dock! Get off your lazy arses! What the hell am I payin' ya for? Move it!" she yelled to her crew.

_The Red Wave_ was docked in Bowerstone Industrial a few hours later. She has to tread carefully here. Here, in the capital of Albion and with such a goody-two-shoes Hero Queen, infamous pirates were not exactly welcome to roam the streets.

Reaver Industries logos were all over Industrial she noticed as she began making her way past the main factory and towards the Market District.She kept an eye out for any guards or the Bastard himself.

Then she saw him.

There he was. Just strolling down the street as if he ruled the world. He was taller than she thought he would be, but it could have just been the top hat. She reached for her Dragonstomper .48 when she saw he had a pistol as well. "Sod." She breathed.

Throwing all logic out the window, she decided to go for a more direct approach. She started walking faster, straight for him. They locked eyes as he started to move around her when she swung and clipped him right in the jaw and sent him sprawling in the mud. The people around gasped and looked dumbfounded. A split second later, the two both had a Dragonstomper .48 aimed right at each other.

"I must say I am impressed. Only one person has ever gotten the better of me like that and well, she is dead. Nevertheless, before I kill you I would like two know two things, first, who are you and second, how did you come to acquire the last Dragonstomper? That last one has always eluded me." Reaver's voice seemed to purr.

"Go to hell." She replied and fired.

Reaver dodged, further ruining his white coat and drew his rapier from his walking stick.

"My, my you are a wild one."

"Shut up"

Their limbs were a blur as they fought. She made sure Reaver couldn't get a shot or even a stab with his rapier by staying close. There was punching, kicking, and clawing as they fought in the mud. She was soaked and cold but she didn't care. A hand grabbed her now filthy short black hair.

She twisted and saw a huge brute of a man wearing, of course, a red surcoat. Reaver stood up, out of breath and just as muddy as she was, picked up his pistol, hat, and walking stick. "Bring this firecracker to my manor," he commanded.

"Wight away Mistah Weavah." The guard said meekly. Reaver picked up her Dragonstomper and took her cutlass from its sheath. "Now look what you have done. You have completely ruined this coat and my trousers." He told her "If you would keep your trousers on we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place." She muttered.

She was half dragged, half carried to Reaver's manor in Millfields. The sprawling manor was surrounded by high walls and hedges. Reaver Industries logos were everywhere she noticed as she was shoved though the gate with Reaver on her heels. She was immediately seized by guards in dark grey uniforms with Reaver's crest embroidered on their surcoats. The gate behind her slammed shut and was locked in place.

"Bring her to my study along with a flagon of wine," He told the two guards. Like trained dogs, they obeyed. Once inside the manor, Reaver left her company, she assumed he went to change. One guard pointed his rifle at her and the other grabbed her arm and they led her down a maze of hallways. Hallways, she noticed, that had portraits of Reaver in different costumes and what looked like time periods. The guards ushered her into Reaver's solar, which was well lit and extravagant.

She was thrown into a chair and the guards left as Reaver strolled in, dressed in a blood red tunic, the lacings loosened to show off a bit of his sculpted chest, and black trousers with black leather lace-up boots that almost came to his knees.

'Now, about that comment, Miss. What did you mean 'If I had kept my trousers on'?" he questioned as he poured himself and her a glass of wine.

"Take a good look. A _real_ good look and tell me what you see."

He paused for a moment. "Well, I see-," he started but didn't finish. Reaver lost his arrogant look and it turned to horror. "No, that's not possible." He whispered.

"Better believe it bastard. It's as true as the sky is blue and as Bloodstone is full of rotten drunkards." She replied.

There was a long pause. Finally, Reaver mustered a "How?"

"We're both smart and know of your, um, record. I'm surprised more of us isn't running around somewhere." She proudly stated.

Reaver had lost his patience. He calmly set the crystal glass and flagon down and halfway leaped over his desk, grabbed the girl by her mud-stained tunic threw her on the ground , leaped on top of her, and pinned her to the ground with a knife he had kept in one of his boots.

"Don't lie to me, bitch. Who are you?" Reaver growled at her. Despite her current predicament, she had not lost her air of arrogance. "My name is Catherene, not that you ever bloody well cared to know. My mum was one of the unfortunate women whom you had… relations with. So now you're stuck with me. I don't plan on staying. I just wanted to come in here and turn your perfect world upside down, then leave. It seems like I have successfully done that too." She smirked.

Reaver took the dagger away from her throat, and looked at her, hard. She really did look like him. Her thick jet-black hair, her bright blue eyes. This Catherene really looked like a female version of himself. Disgusted, he got off of her and downed the contents of the forgotten glass in one gulp. He refilled it, and repeated. Reaver sighed and turned back to her.

She had picked herself up off the marble floor, and was looking at him with mixed emotions, one was pure hate, the other malice. After a tense moment, Reaver broke the silence by speaking first, his arrogant demeanour and charming voice back.

"Prove it."

She actually had the audacity to smirk at him.


End file.
